Step by step, we go together
by Rosie-not-Rose
Summary: Booth has recovered from his brain tumor, and everything seems to be slotting back into place. However; when Booth and Brennan go undercover in a hotel, it becomes very apparent that something about Booth has changed. Involves an actual case, too.


"Who are you?"

Brennan stares at him, unseeing. A humourless laugh escapes her throat, as the words dredge up a feeling buried deep within her that until now, she was beginning to come to terms with. A strong emotion squeezing at her chest that gains absolutely nothing, that isn't welcome, but is impossible to ignore. Impossible to compartmentalise and move on from.

Abandonment.

As Booth continues to gaze at her from his hospital bed with a blearily confused expression, Brennan shifts her gaze from him, choosing instead to focus on the wall to the side of his bed. A picture hangs here; an amateur painting of Booth, Brennan and Parker standing side by side. Parker had given it to Brennan to pass on to his dad, given that Rebecca had made the decision not to let Parker see his daddy in his current state. Generally Brennan would have found this gesture of a son's love touching, but instead, she looks away from that, too; her eyes begin to grow hot, as she tries with desperation to bring the situation back under her control. She can usually deal with emotions, no problem. But she can't help but reflect how much Booth has taught her. The last four years, she has felt like a different person, a person who is able to laugh and cry, and to let the occasional person into her life, and sometimes even into her head.

In some ways her life was easier to deal with when she closed herself off to the world. But this new outlook on life she has . . . she doesn't want to lose that. Suddenly it feels as though the walls are closing in on her. She doesn't want to go back to how she was, not now . . .

Booth suddenly descends into a coughing fit, his whole body hunching over, and somehow this clears Brennan's head slightly. As he sinks back into the pillows, groaning, she moves back to sit in the chair but fixes him with a gaze. Suddenly logic seems like the best option. Logic is always her friend. Never jump to conclusions; she has been saying that since she was old enough to understand what it meant . . .

She tries to speak but her voice is low, croaky from lack of use. Other than reading aloud passages of her book, partly to Booth and partly for her own benefit, she had barely said two words in the four days that Booth was unconscious. There was nothing she could do to help him, nothing to do except wait, so what would discussing the matter and stating facts have achieved?

She clears her throat and tries again. "Booth?"

There is a pause, and her mind is screaming. Then suddenly he speaks, so softly she can barely hear him. "Bren?"

In her relief colour floods her cheeks, and she allows a smile to tug at her lips. "It's Bones, actually."

"Bones?" His voice implies he doesn't understand.

"Yes, you've . . . " She pauses to control her voice, which threatens to quaver. "You've always called me Bones. Since we started working together. Don't you remember?"

"But . . ." Booth seems to be suffering an internal struggle. "It was so real." His eyes never leave hers, but it isn't the intense gaze filled with warmth that Brennan is used to, and as a result it leaves her feeling slightly lost. She wants to reach for his hand, to tell him everything will be fine (despite sufficient evidence to the contrary), but somehow she cannot do it.

"What did you dream about, Booth?" She ignores with difficulty a voice in her head which questions whether or not she wants to hear the answer.

"You were . . . pregnant. Pregnancy, lots of sex, marriage," he mutters into his chest, devoid of his usual embarrassment when discussing these particular topics. He still seems very much out of it, but that still doesn't prepare Brennan for what next leaves his lips.

"I think maybe I want that."

Brennan leaps instantly to her feet as if she's been stung, blood racing through her. "I think you should . . . I'll let you get some sleep." She feels slightly sick as she walks quickly to the hospital door, and closes it quickly behind her. Outside, she leans against the wall and tries to control her breathing. The thoughts in her head, usually so easy to sort through and understand, are becoming more and more like _noise_. She needs to step back from the situation and allow her thoughts to organise themselves. Small logical steps.

Except that this whole situation makes little sense to Brennan, and she is unused to this. She tries to focus on what she knows for sure. Apparently what she automatically understood to be Booth suffering from amnesia due to the operation may not be the case at all. But then why was he referring to her as 'Bren'? He had never done that, in four years of being partners. She remembers initially protesting against being labelled 'Bones', but now she rather enjoys the nickname, sometimes finding herself elated that Booth would care enough to conjure up such a thing. 'Bren' feels different, strange. Is this somehow connected to the coma-induced dream that Booth mentioned? A painful lump rises in her throat as she thinks back on his words; _"Pregnancy, lots of sex, marriage"._ Without permission her mind travels back five days, to the moment that she dragged Booth from the interrogation room and he claimed he had been having a discussion with a cartoon character named Stewie. Booth had also finally admitted what was tormenting him so deeply; he felt unbearably torn at the idea of helping Brennan bring a baby into the world, especially when she had clearly implied that he was to have little involvement in the baby's upbringing. Brennan had been so concerned for his mental well being at this point that she had simply accepted abandoning the idea of conceiving a child, without having chance to consider his words properly. But now the words swim into the forefront of her brain … and as she contemplates his statement carefully, she feels horrible guilt seep through her like a toxic gas, spreading to every corner of her body.

Had this stress that she had put him under with all the baby talk been the trigger point that brought his hallucinations to the surface? Despite this, Brennan is aware that this was somewhat a blessing in disguise, as it caused the problem to come to light earlier than it might have, causing the Doctors to catch the tumour before it grew and mutated, spreading to other parts of his brain … she quickly stops the flow of that thought before it advances any further. It may have been a positive on some levels, but this does nothing to stem the flow of disgust that flows through her. How could she have been so ignorant of what was going on?

Booth has told her many a time that she lacks empathy, and she can accept this logic completely. However, she isn't stupid (though she reflects that she has certainly been exhibiting some symptoms recently in regards to the baby idea). She has been aware of the situation between herself and Booth for a good while. However, it had taken the unbridled terror of nearly losing him to a horrible tumour that had brought it to the surface and made it all so plain and clear that Brennan feels as if she is staring into a bright light.

She knows he feels it too. She could see it from day one, when he looked into her eyes. She is also aware that he is waiting, waiting for the green light (metaphorically speaking, of course). She is aware of a lot more than he realises. Maybe she will tell him some day, she thinks, a smirk drifting briefly across her face like the sun on murky water. He would never do anything until she is completely ready. But that is the problem. She still isn't ready.

The idea that he is so willing to wait and not push the situation, to consider her thoughts far above his own … it clenches painfully at her heart, and tears form in her eyes, blurring her vision. She turns round to glance through the glass door of Booth's room. He appears to be sleeping now, or at least dozing; though the look of discomfort and confusion haven't left his face entirely. As she watches him silently, a tear rolls down her face. She _wants_ to be ready, more than anything. She wants to be able to let him in. At times she finds herself desperate to kiss him, but she knows this would naturally lead to unpleasant complications that she just isn't ready to deal with. Despite all this, she has been hurt too many times in the past, and she has learnt that it just isn't worth rushing into anything, putting your heart out there, until you are completely sure.

She doesn't doubt that they will end up together, eventually. Nevertheless; just as Booth is waiting for the green light, so is she; inside her head. She just doesn't know when this will be. But she hopes he will wait to find out.

~ * ~

A week passes, and gradually Booth begins to regain his strength. Brennan rarely leaves his side, leaving the hospital only to collect the necessary food and drink, and occasionally a specific magazine that Booth sheepishly requests. Despite the constant close contact that they share in that week, there are very few words spoken, at least any that hold any great significance. Innocent chatter and occasional gossip; nothing with any real meaning. Booth still spends a lot of time in a deep sleep, attempting to recover from the clearly devastating effect the anaesthesia had on his body, and Brennan appreciates the quiet, often sitting in silence for hours at a time, allowing her thoughts to slowly attempt to come to terms with themselves. She doesn't know whether she should feel overjoyed or distraught at the situation. She doesn't know whether their friendship or their career as partners will survive this event. She doesn't know what to _say, _or _do._ She just doesn't know, and consequently she still speaks very rarely, and is barely aware of the words that leave her mouth. She is just so unsure, and the situation is far beyond her control, or understanding. It is more than unpleasant.

Out of nowhere, a thought settles in her brain, the first concrete notion in a week that she has experienced. She needs a holiday. She is acutely aware, however, that this vacation will be temporary, and merely for the purpose of gaining some perspective, and clearing her head. While the thought of running away from the situation and distancing herself from it would have been at the forefront of her brain several years ago, today it doesn't even threaten to enter her head. She knows now that attempting to close herself off from the world doesn't just affect her, it affects everyone around her. She has gotten far too close to Booth now. There will be no running. But she _definitely_ needs some time away, she is positive of that. Soon, she will leave. But not before she is confident that Booth is going to make a full recovery; physically, at least.

As Brennan looks at him now, fast asleep as has become commonplace, she suddenly feels a rush of feelings she cannot explain. She isn't even sure what they are. But they are such strong emotions, and they race through her body, pounding through every artery and tip tapping at her bones. She reaches for his hand on a whim, and simply holds it between both of her hands. It feels warm, soft, healthy. And most importantly, _alive._ He didn't leave her. He is still here. Anthropologically speaking, his body remains the same; his vital organs unchanged, his limbs intact, his facial features as symmetrical as they always were… but his brain, his memories. Who knows what memories he will retain from before the operation; will he still be the same person, the same man she has grown to know so well over four years? Will he… will he remember everything about _her?_ To merely allow these thoughts to form in her brain feels similar to a sharp instrument piercing Brennan in several places. They are questions that have been harassing her thoughts for the past five days, but she never voices them aloud. She has no intention of asking the questions, because she dreads the answers far too much. Another unwavering thought enters her mind – she needs to leave today, for her holiday. She suddenly cannot bear to be in the hospital for any more time.

All of a sudden, Booth stirs, causing Brennan to start slightly. His brown eyes flicker open, and he gazes blearily around before his eyes settle on her. She could be imagining it, but Brennan almost fancies she senses a sudden happiness about him, a light behind his eyes. No, she is just getting carried away. She goes to release his hand from her grip, but he reaches for her wrist and just holds it, firmly but gently. She can feel his eyes watching her, but for once she finds it difficult to meet his steady gaze.

"Hey, Bones." It had admittedly been a sizeable relief when Booth had begun to refer to her by her old nickname again, after two days. It gave her a tiny amount of hope, but there was still so much left unsure. Remembering her name simply wasn't enough. How much of their time together had he lost? She didn't know, and she definitely wasn't ready to ask.

"You're still here."

Brennan frowns. "Yes, I'm still here, Booth. But –"

"Ugh, I'm _starving_, reckon you could ask Nurse Dawson if they have any more of that chocolate pudding in the little plastic containers?" he interrupts, before treating her to a huge grin. She can't help but return his smile, finally meeting his gaze fully. Seeing him so happy at the thought of dessert causes conflicting emotions of affection and hurt in Brennan. A muffled voice at the back of her mind points out that this isn't logical.

She attempts to smile again. "OK, I'll ask." Booth settles back onto his pillows, apparently satisfied. A silence falls between them, yet again.

"Booth?"

"Hmm."

"I'm … going to be leaving in a few days, for a while. I think I might travel to Guatemala, I have been there many times in the past and it's very beautiful. You'll be well looked after, at least one person from the Jeffersonian comes to visit you every day so you won't get lonely… or anything."

There is a pause. "Oh." Brennan regards his face carefully, as he stares resolutely at the bed covers. She is aware that recognising minute facial expressions has never been one of her strong points, but she predicts that Booth is purposely trying to hide how he feels at this moment in time. She struggles to understand for a moment, until suddenly Booth releases his hold on her wrist and something clicks into place in her mind. He feels _abandoned, _just like she did when he asked the question that continued to haunt her.

"Don't be…" She swallows. "This isn't me running away, Booth. I'll be back."

He says nothing, continues to study the bed as if it holds the answers to the universe. It pains Brennan to know she has just upset him, and she ponders desperately how to solve the problem. They cannot separate on these terms.

"Booth? Look at me, please." To her surprise, he does so. "You know I don't lie. _I'll be back._ I just need space, and time."

Booth exhales, and rubs a hand wearily over his eyes. She watches him intently, nervously. "I _need_ you at the moment, you know that, Bones."

"I – I know!" Her voice breaks. "I do too. And this will only be temporary. I promise." She stands, making for the door.

"You'll come back?" It seems very important for him to hear the answer again. Brennan hesitates.

"Of course I will." She suddenly smiles. "Do you still want that dessert?"

~ * ~


End file.
